Suicide Teens
by RAVENWARLOCK777
Summary: This story re-imagines both the Suicide Squad and the Teen Titans. Instead of being a group of junior heroes-in-training, the "Suicide Teens" are a group of juvenile teenage criminals, who, after being captured, are used for their abilities and powers by Amanda Waller, a government agent. They are held prisoner on an island in the bay of Jump City, released to help defend the city
1. Introduction

-Introduction:

This story reimagines both the Suicide Squad and the Teen Titans. Instead of being a group of junior heroes-in-training, the "Suicide Teens" are a group of juvenile teenage criminals, who, after being captured, are used for their abilities and powers by Amanda Waller, a government agent. They are held prisoner on an island in the bay of Jump City, only released to help deal with situations the police can't handle. In exchange for their services, they are promised a pardon when they turn 21. They are also occasionally allowed to go out and roam the streets, though they are not allowed to leave the city limits, or they will receive a severe electric shock from the implants in the back of each of their necks.

The concept is partially based on the original Teen Titans TV show, while all of the characters are based on those from the 2016 movie version of the Suicide Squad. However, in order to take into account the new age of the characters, I've created new backstories for them. While all the essential elements of the original backstories are there, in a couple cases I borrowed a few bits of lore from the comics to help expand the character.

-Profiles:

Deadshot: Was raised in a home with an abusive father. In an attempt to kill his father at age 9, he missed and ended up shooting and killing his younger brother. He was put into juvie, where he vowed never to miss his target again. He spent the next 5 years intensively training, until he had perfect aim with nearly any ranged weapon. He escaped, and quickly became skilled with guns as well. He killed his father, then put his skills to use became an assassin, one who rarely met his clients in person so his age wouldn't be discovered. Eventually, he was captured by a huge team of FBI and SWAT agents, who were stunned to discover that their master killer was a 17-year-old boy.

Harley Quinn: A promising 15-year-old student in a prep school for future doctors and psychologists, Harleen Quinzel earned top marks. However, under her composed exterior was an instability, one which came out when her class was taken on a field trip Arkham Asylum. The Joker gave her a single wink, and that was it. She obsessively began studying him, learning as much as possible about him and his crimes before burning her school down in the shape of a "J" and running away to join him, under her new alter ego Harley Quinn. Despite her young age, the Joker found it amusing to let her be his "girlfriend". Eventually, she was taken into custody. The Joker freed her twice from juvenile detention facilities, before she was moved to Squad Tower in the bay of Jump City.

Katana: A mysterious 17-year-old Japanese girl whose father, an important businessman, was assassinated by the Soultaker sword, a weapon which traps the souls of its victims in the blade. She took possession of the blade, and after mastering its use, avenged her father's death. Unlike the other members of the team, she volunteered, meaning she is free to leave, and isn't imprisoned on the island like the others.

Killer Croc: After his mother died, he was raised by an abusive aunt who bullied him for his condition, which made him look reptilian. After years of cruel treatment, he snapped, killing and eating his aunt. He fled underground to live in the sewers, occasionally ambushing and eating people, for months before being taken into custody by animal control at age 14. After realizing their "crocodile" was human, they turned him over to the government's custody.

El Diablo: A Los Angeles gang prospect (gang member wannabe) who used his flame-summoning powers to rise at a breakneck speed through the ranks, despite his young age of 15. But after starting a blaze that ended up accidently killing his mother and brother, he was filled with crushing regret, and quietly handed himself over to police. Although he had originally vowed to never again use his powers, he has slowly become willing to, though with far more restraint than the other team members use.

Enchantress: 14-year-old June Moone was the daughter of an archaeologist, whose parents gave her a small stone figure as a gift from one of their dig sites. But when June unwittingly figured out how to open it up, she unleashed a dark entity, a female "goddess" who had been imprisoned in the artifact by the very humans who used to worship her. Taking control of June's body, she went on a rampage, before she was contained by threatening to destroy her sole weakness, her heart, which she carries outside of her body. Filled with resentment toward all humans, the Enchantress's anger is kept in check by Amanda Waller, who carries the Enchantress's heart around in a briefcase, ready to stab it at any time.

Captain Boomerang: A sarcastic 17-year-old street kid from Australia, who mastered the use of an unconventional weapon in order to distinguish himself from other small time criminals: boomerangs. He created his own high-quality steel boomerangs, and used them to assist him in robbing several banks. He has an inexplicable fetish for unicorns, and carries a stuffed one around with him as a companion, named "Pinky".

Rick Flag: A 19-year-old soldier, who earned top marks in his military acadamy. After graduating and joining the military, his first assignment was to supervise and monitor the Squad, reporting directly to Amanda Waller. And although Deadshot usually falls into a leadership position, Rick often takes "official" command of the team if directed to do so by Waller. He has his doubts and questions about Waller's leadership and handling of the team, but for the most part keeps his opinions to himself, like a good soldier.

Amanda Waller: A deceptive government agent, who sees the Suicide Teens as an opportunity for a power grab. She cares very little, if at all, about their safety, and sees super-powered beings in general as resources to be manipulated into serving the intelligent and influential.

-Powers:

Deadshot: Perfect aim, with every known ranged weapon. Also has hand-to-hand fighting skills.

Harley Quinn: Hand-to-hand combat skills, is experienced both a sledgehammer and pistols.

Katana: Master of martial arts, extremely skilled with the sword.

Killer Croc: Thick skin makes him impervious to even high-caliber weapons, super-strength, can lift the average car, sharp teeth and claws.

El Diablo: Can shoot flames from any part of his body, also has precision control over them. When using his powers at full potential, he could likely torch an entire city. Can also transform into a large, flaming demon-like creature.

Enchantress/June Moone: June can allow herself to be possessed by the Enchantress, by saying the word "Enchantress". Enchantress's powers are nearly limitless, including: teleportation, telekinesis, mind-reading, flight, and energy blasts.

Captain Boomerang: Master of using boomerangs, can make them return to him every time. Also has good aim with other weapons, and basic hand-to-hand fighting skills.

Rick Flag: Trained soldier, good marksman, and a skilled tactician.

-Chapter 1 is coming soon, feel free to comment and offer feedback in the character bios and backstories!


	2. New Beginings

It's early morning in Jump City. Most of the sounds you hear are of normal city activity, cars honking and people shouting. There is one unfamiliar noise, however; the defeating swish of a military helicopter flying low over the city, heading for the small island in the bay, a couple miles from the shore and the source of a lot of activity in the last few weeks. Construction activity, to be precise, building a structure that looked like a cross between a military base and a bomb shelter, which looked like an "S" when viewed from above.

The helicopter landed on a pad on the roof of this structure. As the blades start to slow, two armed soldiers with grim expressions get out and walk around to the back.

"I swear to god, if this little bitch so much as blinks too hard, I want you to knock her the fuck out."

"No complaints here. I heard about what she did to Johnson. And she's only 15, for christ's sake!"

"She's been living with the fucking Joker all this time, what else would you expect?"

The first soldier bangs on the hatch, then steps back as it slowly opens up. As the door comes down, it slowly reveals the stony faces of two more guards, and as it continues down, revealing their shoulders and chests, it finally reveals a pale face, with smeared mascara around the eyes and platnium blond hair in two pigtails, one dyed blue and the other pink. Finally, the door hits the ground. The girl stands there between soldiers nearly twice her size, who still seem hesitant to get too close to her, wearing nothing but a torn, baggy white shirt that reaches nearly to her knees. Her hands are cuffed in front of her, and she quickly looks up from fiddling with them to grin at the two new guards.

"Heya guys! I hope you two are more fun than these bozos! It was a really long flight, and they didn't want to play a single game?" She leans foward and says in an exaggerated loud-whisper, "One of them said he was gonna knock my teeth so far down my throat they would rip a hole through the back of my pants... jokes on him though, I don't have any!"

She's interupted from her snickering as one of the men standing beside her knocks her foward with the butt of his rifle.

"Get out of here, Quinn."

"I didn't want to stay and play with you losers anyway!" The new guards each grab one of her arms and jerk her away as she tries to turn and stick her tounge out at the men in the helicopter.

They lead her into the facility, past a hallway steel doors armed with number passwords, handprint scanners, and even a retinal scan, before they approach a larger door than the rest. They let go of her and unlock her handcuffs. As she happily rubs her wrists, they turn around and start walking back, leaving her to face the omnious door.

"What, you're gonna leave me here all by my lonesome?" Harley calls out after them.

One of the guards pauses and looks back at her. "Yeah, cause they don't even need us to babysit. If you tried to escape, you wouldn't be able to get through even the first door before the little gadget in your neck zaps your punk ass into a long, deep sleep." He turns and rejoins his partner as the door shuts behind them.

She snorts. "My punk ass can take a zapping, pretty sure the damn electric shock therapy proved that." she mumbles. She hears muffled voices coming from the larger door in front of her, and she takes a deep breath.

"Well, I guess it's time to make some new friends!" she says eagerly, walking foward. The automatic door quickly slid into the ceiling. She walked into the large, open room, and found herself in a probation officer's worst nightmare: almost all of the most dangerous and deadly "gifted" underage criminals in one room. They were sitting on couches, arranged strangely silently around a TV, but they all looked up at her as she came in.

"Fantastic, Mrs. Joker is here, now we finally get to watch the bloody educational film." said a kid with curly orange hair spilling out of a beanie and the beginings of a beard, wearing a long trenchcoat. He jumped up off the couch and walked over to Harley, taking her hand and drawing it to his lips. "Pleasure to meet you, they call me Captain Boomera-"

"No, stop, you might as well cut that shit out right now, cause nobody is gonna call you that" said a black boy in orange-and-black tactical gear, standing up. "I refuse to be on a team where one of the members is called fuckin' Captain Boomerang, that has got to be the most retarded-ass name I've ever heard... I was an assassan, you sound like somebody on a fuckin' cereal box."

"Yeah, well at least I'm not generic, anybody can handle a bloody gun."

"I don't think just anybody could get a headshot in every single time they pull the trigger... I can't believe they said you used to be a bank robber. Your weapon of choice is a curved stick." Deadshot turned to face the others. "Aright, all in favor of banning that god-awful name, raise a hand."

A Japanese girl in a mask with a red circle on it, a teenage boy covered in tattoos, including one that made his face look like a skull, and a large figure in a hood glanced up. Slowly, the hooded figure raised a hand, one covered in thick, grey-green scales.

"Ayyy, I knew my boy Croc would have my back. Katana, Diablo, I'll get you next time."

Harley absently glanced over, and saw a dark female figure with long, stringy brown hair standing in the corner, facing the wall while slowly rocking from side to side. She had some kind of strange black smoke encircling her.

"Hey, I didn't know they allowed smoking in here! Shit, I woulda brought ma cloves! Whicha smoking, sister? Wanna share?" says Harley as she skips over.

Deadshot looks up from insulting Captain Boomerang to see Harley approaching the figure in the corner.

"Woah, Harley, I wouldn't do that if I were you-" he's interupted by Harley touching the girl's shoulder and all hell breaking loose. There's a huge surge of a black energy that shoots out from the spot Harley touched, flinging her backwards head-over-heels until she hits a countertop that's part of the kitchen area. Deadshot and Boomerang are knocked off their feet and they hit the floor, and the others are pushed foward in their seats like they're passengers in a car that's just hit the brakes on the highway.

Katana jumps to her feet and pulls a sword from the hoilster on her back. She grips it tightly with both hands and approaches the dark girl, who hasn't even moved an eye. Croc slowly stands, a growl rising in his throat, and starts walking after her. Diablo is left alone on the couch, with his hands folded in front of him.

"Yo, I think you shouldn't mess with her." is all Diablo mildly offers before he goes back to facing front, hands folded together. Harley weakly stands up, holding her head.

"Shit... I like it rough as much as the next girl, but you didn't even give me a safeword..."

Suddenly, a large TV at the front of the room turns on.

"That's enough! All of you, stop." says the voice that now fills the room. The group looks up. An imposing, stern-faced black woman in a suit is on the TV monitor. "All of you, return to the couches and sit down, right now." Deadshot slowly walks back over to the TV.

"And who might you be?"

The woman softly cleared her throat. "I'm Amanda Waller. I'm the reason that all of you are here, and not rotting away in a mental institution, or maximum-security prison, or even facing the death penalty. So when I ask you to do something, it is by far in your best interest to do it."

Deadshot gave a short laugh. "Well okay then. But only because you said please." He fell back on the couch and spread his arms out on each side across the top. Harley, having recovered from being thrown almost 20 feet, came over and threw herself with a huff down on the couch next to Deadshot.

"I hate people who don't ask nice." She mumbled, crossing her arms. Deadshot shifted a bit, and she realized Deadshot's arm was on the seat behind her, practically around her. She smirked and shifted a little closer, glancing over at him. Deadshot looked back at her, and smiled a little back.

By now, the others had settled in around them. All except one. Waller cleared her throat again.

"I don't suppose most, if any of you know Enchantress. Or the girl she's possessed." At the sound of her name, Enchantress jerked her head up to look at the TV. "Well, she's a very... independent being. But she's perfectly willing to cooperate," Waller said, grabbing a briefcase and putting it on a desk in front of her. She typed in a combination on a keypad. "Given the proper motivation." She opened up the case and spun it around, revealing its contents. Attached to several wires and monitors, in a bed of ice, lay a beating, black heart.

"The fucking hell is that?" said Captain Boomerang with wide eyes. Harley grinned and leaned foward. "Cool!" she said eagerly. Katana raised an eyebrow.

Deadshot laughed. "I mean, I knew you was hard and shit, but you carry your heart around in a briefcase? That's gangster."

"Quiet." said Waller. Deadshot glared at her, then snorted and looked away. Waller looked over at Enchantress, whose eyes are glued to the beating heart. With jerky movements, she starts to walk over to the TV. "Now Enchantress, you've been with us for a while now. I think it's time you give June control again." Enchantress lowers her head a bit and glares at the TV. The smoke surrounding her grows. Waller calmly reaches into her pocket and grabs a switchblade, which she snaps open and holds beside the heart. "Enchantress..." Enchantress holds the look a few seconds longer. Then suddenly, the smoke around her clears. Her hair turns blonde, and her skin loses its grey tone. Her outfit changes to a simple white t-shirt and jeans. Then she collapses to her knees, gasping and panting. "Everyone, meet June Moone. Welcome back, June. You made some new friends while you were gone, you can join them on the couch now." June turned her head to look behind her. She looks at everyone sitting on the couch with wide, fear-filled eyes as Waller closed the suitcase.

"Don't worry sweetie, we won't bite...well, maybe the crocodile man does. And thanks for shooting me halfway across the fuckin' room." said Harley, leaning foward. Croc glared at her.

"Settle down, Harley." Harley bared her teeth at the TV, then leaned back. June hesitantly approached the couch and sat down at the far end, as far from Croc as possible.

"Now, let's start." said Waller. "As I've previously said, I'm Amanda Waller. I'm a government agent specializing in defense against metahumans, those who are gifted in some way, whether that means having the ability to fly, or the intellect to build a jet pack. And as for you, you are young, gifted criminals. Not gifted enough to avoid capture, apparently. Your age means nothing in terms of answering for your crimes. You all face either being in a mental institution or prison for the rest of your lives, unless your crimes called you to pay with your life. At least you would, had I not rectruited you. What I'm offering here isn't a second chance. You used that up a long time ago. Along with your third, fourth, fifth, et cetera, chances. What I'm offering here is a final chance. Most of you don't give a rat's ass about remdeeming yourselves. However, working for me gives you perks. Like being able to leave this building and roam the streets of this city like law-abiding citizens - in exchange for good behavior. But that's not all I'm going to give you. In exchange for your services, you will all recieve a full pardon at the age of 21."

She had the group's full attention by now. El Diablo in particular, who had looked up upon hearing the word, "redemption." However, Katana seemed disinterested, her eyes wandered, noting the features of the room.

"Are you serious? Oh, to have a clean slate again!" said Harley, giggling.

"Well Waller, that all sounds nice and everything, but there's no way in hell you actually plan to let us live to see a pardon... so what exactly are these 'services' you want us to perform?" asked Deadshot.

"You are going to be called in to help deal with situations the police can't handle, but are small and contained enough so that calling the military in would be overkill. This city in particular is regularly attacked by several local metahumans. And the reason I'm offering you so much is because there is a fair chance that you could be killed. Dead kids on the six o'clock news is never good... unless they and the people they've killed have already made the news. But if you do make it to 21, you have my word, you will recieve a pardon. I mean, I'll also have to send you to court-ordered therapy, put you on probation...but of course, you won't show up to therapy and you'll violate your probation within an hour of getting it, but at that point you're no longer my problem. And I'm not going to rescue you the next time you get locked up and they throw away the key. However, one of you isn't like the rest. Katana was a volunteer. She isn't a criminal, and so she's free to leave at any time."

"You know, I can't really do the thing I do best without, you know, a gun." said Deadshot.

"You'll get your guns. As well as your mask. You will all recieve your 'gear' back."

Harley raised her hand excitedly. "By gear, do you mean like my weapons, or like fuzzy handcuffs and ball gags?" Deadshot and Captain Boomerang snickered, and even Croc snorted from under his hood.

Waller narrowed her eyes a bit, but merely said, "Your weapons. Now, a couple more things. One, although there will be no soldiers or guards in the building guarding you, you are not to go outside the city limits. Remember when we put you under after we retrieved you from your prisons? You were all, except for Katana, implanted with a device in the back of your neck. Leave the city limits, or piss me off in any way, and you will recieve an electric shock powerful enough to immobilize you until you can be retrieved and put back on duty, minus any privledges you never deserved in the first place."

The group all touched the back of their necks as one.

"Hold up, I don't remember giving you permission to do that..." said Deadshot.

"Don't kid yourself. You gave up your rights a long time ago. Oh, and by tommorow, the final member of your team will arrive. Your leader. His name is Rick Flag, he's a military prodigy, and you answer to him, because he answers to me. Now, I suggest you all get some rest. Who knows when you'll be called to duty." On that note, she ended the call, and the screen faded slowly to black, leaving the seven strangers sitting in silence on a couch.

It didn't last long, as Harley giggled. "Did ya hear that? She said 'doody'."

Boomerang snorted. "Well, at least someone finds this situation amusing." Katana stands and walks stiffly out of the room without a word.

"Does anybody know if she can even speak English?" said Boomerang.

"Who knows. What I'm interested in is this chick right here." said Deadshot.

Harley beamed and thrusted her chest a little father out, though the baggy t-shirt was doing her figure no favors.

"So you wanna tell us why you went from being some kind of demonic stripper to looking like a fish-out-of-water, preppy cheerleader type when Waller showed you a black heart in a briefcase?" he said, talking to June, who was staring at her feet in silence. Realizing he wasn't talking about her, Harley deflated a little, then quickly perked back up.

"Yeah, what gives? It's not nice to throw people across the damn room when they ask you for a smoke."

June took a deep breath, one that shook a little. Without looking up, she said in a low voice that could barely be heard, "That other girl... she's not...me. She just takes... control... of my body. I was cursed." Diablo nods a little, his eyes, surrounded by tattoos of empty eye sockets, show something that looks like sympathy.

"So you have like, no control over... her?" said Deadshot.

"No. But Amanda Waller has her heart. And if her heart is destroyed, she dies... and maybe me too."

"But if you can't control er', why are you treated like a prisoner like the rest of us? It's not like you were doing anything wrong." asked Boomerang.

June gave a defeated shrug. "I was the one who got myself cursed. I opened up the artifact, her prison. She and I might as well be the same person."

Harley got up and walked over to June slowly... then gave her a light punch on the arm. June flinched, nearly falling off the couch.

"Cheer up sistah, we're all fuckups here. Like how one time I mixed up the laughing gas and the acid spray." Harley looked into the distance, a dreamy smile on her face. "Mistah J thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever seen... shame about that pastor though. He was just being sooo serious, I wanted him to lighten up a little." June shuddered and shrank away.

"And what about you, big guy? You seem pretty chill for a killer." said Deadshot, talking to Croc.

Croc slowly looked up. He lifted a clawed hand and pulled off his hood, to reveal a scaly grey head, completely devoid of hair. His teeth were razor-sharp points. In a low, very deep voice that barely sounded human, he said:

"I ate my aunt."

No one said anything for a moment. Then Deadshot looked at Diablo. "So I heard you're like, the Human Lighter. Wanna show us?"

Diablo slowly shook his head, with a bored expression. "Nah, man, I don't do that shit anymore."

"What do you mean you don't do that shit anymore? That's your... gift or whatever. We're gonna be expected to go out and fight people, what are you gonna do then? Offer to show them more of your tattoos?"

Diablo looks angry for half a second, and his eyes almost look like they light up with an orange glow. But the moment passes, and the same disinterested look returns to his face.

"If the time comes to use my powers, I might use them. But I'm not going to play with them."

"You MIGHT use them... wow. I see you're going to be a ton of help in battle." Diablo just shrugged. Deadshot took a deep breath and smacked his hands on his knees.

"Okay then. Well, I'm going to see where I'll be sleeping. I better get there soon, so I have time to check in my closet and under my bed for A-man-looking Waller. I guess I'll see all of you along with our newest addition G.I. Joe in the morning." He stood up and started walking towards the door Katana left through. Harley quickly followed, and the others started standing up and walking after them. June was left the last one sitting on the couch. Diablo glanced back right before he left the room and saw her. He walked back over to her. She seemed to be lost in thought.

"You... ok?" He asked her. She looked up quickly at him, but saw that he was looking at her kindly. She gave him a quick, forced smile.

"Yeah.. I just... I don't feel like I belong here... Maybe...she does, but I'm not like all of you... no offense." He nodded.

"None taken. None of us belong here." He offered her a hand. She gave him another smile, one that was less forced, and took it, letting him pull her too her feet. They walked out of the room together, the lights automatically turning off behind them once the room sensed there was no one in it.

They all contined down a long hallway, until they got to several doors, each one facing another one on the opposite side. They all had names on them. The group begain finding their doors, then putting their thumb onto a scanner beside the door to open it up.

Croc walked into his room first. It was like a dungeon, with stone walls. There was a simple cot on one side of the room, and there was water dripping from certain places in the ceiling. This wasn't due to poor construction, the building was funded by millions of taxpayer dollars, but rather small holes drilled in the pipes above the room, which allowed them to drip small amounts water onto the floor, where it was drained into a hole in the center of the room. Thus, recreating a sewer. Croc took off his hoodie and threw it on the cot, then curled up on the ground, which was strangely warm, thanks to a heating system built into the floor.

Katana had reached her room before any of them had. Being a volunteer rather than a prisoner, she had the most freedom in terms of designing her room. Lining the light orange walls, there were bookshelves of manga novels. There was a dressing area, made of paper walls painted with calming scenes of cherry trees having their blossoms blown to the wind. Katana had removed her costume, and now sat barefoot and bare-faced on the bed wearing a kimono, holding the sword just a few inches out of its sheith. Smoke came off the blade as she spoke into the sword that traps souls and told her father that she loved him, tears sliding down her face.

Diablo entered a room that looked like a typical, abeit basic, bedroom. On one side there was a bed, and on the other there was a desk with several candles on it, along with pictures of an older woman, and a young girl. Diablo picked up a picture of the two of them together. He looked at it for a moment, then put it down. Snapping his fingers, a small, lighter-sized flame appeared on the end of his finger. He lit each candle, then knelt before the desk, mumbling what sounded like a prayer in Spanish.

Captain Boomerang's room was, in a sense, like that of any other teenage boy. Magazines scattered around, a beanbag chair, a radio. Boomerang opened his trenchcoat and reached inside. He pulled out, of all things, a small stuffed unicorn. He set it up carefully on the bed.

"There you go, Pinky. Our new home. Do you like it? They did a pretty shitty job in the decorating compartment, but we can fix that, can't we? I'll get this place looking nice in no time." He planted a kiss on the unicorn's plush forehead.

Deadshot pressed his thumb against the scanner, then walked into his room. A few seconds later, the door closed behind him. He took in the room. Several dartboards were on one wall, attached to what looked like a maze imbedded into the wall. There was a red button off to the side, along with a gauge to control the speed at which the dartboards dodged. Several sets of throwing knives and human-shaped targets on were along the other wall, and they had the same setup. "Guess they want me to stay sharp." he mumbled. From behind him, a pale finger trailed across his shoulder, and a high-pitched voice whispered in his ear with breath that smelled like bubblegum:

"But all I want you to do is get hard..."

Without turning around, Deadshot smiled. "I thought I heard someone slip in behind me."

"What can I say? I don't wanna spend the night all alone in a weird place..."

"Can't say I blame you." Suddenly he turned and grabbed Harley by the shoulders, kissing her roughly and slamming her into the door she had just slipped through. She wrapped her legs around him, gripping the back of his shaved head with painted black-and-red fingernails as she whipped her tounge around his mouth. He walked over to the bed and threw her down on it. She giggled and spread herself open. He grabbed the baggy white t-shirt she was wearing and ripped it off in one motion, leaving her in a pair of red panties, then started unbuttoning his fly, still standing at the head of the bed.

"Hey, Deadhead, can you do me favor?" She said in a breathless voice.

"I'm pretty sure that was the plan, right?"

"I mean can you... use one of those knives? Mistah J used to... tease me with one."

Deadshot gave a short laugh. "You're a crazy-ass bitch, you know that?" But he reached over and grabbed a knife.

"I know it, and I fuckin' LOVE it."

She cut herself off with a moan as he dragged the tip of the knife slowly right down the middle of her body, between her breasts, over her stomach, and stopping right at the begining of her girlhood. Having gotten his fly open, he jumped on top of her.

For the next hour or so, a lot happened. Curses were screamed and shouted. Orange and black tactical gear was removed. The headboard was broken, and the floorboard took a beating. The lamp beside the bed was broken, and its cord used to tie a pair of hands together. There was a lot of moaned baby-talk, and some giggling. There were some grunts and some growled mumbling in ears. A few feigned threats were uttered. A knife was held to a girl's throat and, for a little while, that knife was eagerly sucked on. Many, many prayers were said, if you count, "Oh gawd yes..." as a prayer. There were slaps and scratches, and even some punches. When it was over, Harley and Deadshot lay on the bed together on their backs, sweating and gasping for air, battered and bruised and in some places bleeding, but satisfied.

"So... what is this?" asked Deadshot once he had gained enough breath to speak.

"This... is pretty fucking hot if ya ask me."

"Good... so I guess we're on the same page."


End file.
